Granny Panties
by OogieBoogie
Summary: "Nice panties, Granger." Possibly crackfic :D
1. Granny Panties

**Chapter One: Granny Panties**

Granny panties.

Yes.

Those kinds that stretch until Norway and back, but are mighty, mighty comfortable.  
Although being the epitome of comfort, it is also one of the most dissed items by the clan of men.

Hermione Granger, who happened to be an avid user of granny panties, could not simply muster what was wrong with that particular undergarment. It was soft, smooth, and airy and … _large_. It provided a lot of space. One did not feel constricted whilst wearing granny panties.

"I don't get why it was invented in the first place, it's so, _ugh_!" Ron positively blanched, "They're the worst inventions ever. No woman should ever, _ever _wear that in the first place. Not sexy, not sexy at all!"  
Harry laughed, along with Seamus, Dean and their other male friends.

There Hermione was, at their once-a-month party slash gatherings at The Burrow, in her most comfortable granny panties. Of course, nobody else knew that.

"What do you think, Draco?" Ron asked Draco Malfoy, who, as of three months ago, began attending these parties. Hermione was impressed by her two best friends who decided to become civil with Malfoy after the war – considering they were working together in the Auror Department. They were good friends now, and Hermione, at first, didn't know whether to be pleasantly surprised or worried.

"Well, I personally believe that," Malfoy paused and took a sip of his wine, "That it doesn't matter."  
"Oh, come on!" A lot of protests were going around at that by the male clan.  
"No, wait," Malfoy raised a finger, and continued, "I simply said it doesn't matter, because … it's all going to come off anyway."

At that, the protests were replaced by hooting and cat-calls and an 'O ho ho, Malfoy!'  
Hermione rolled her eyes as she listened to them. Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown and Weasley were busy gossiping at the corner and she knew if she joined them she would feel totally out of place. Hermione was never really _girly_ to begin with anyway.

She looked around the table, watching the laughing faces of the male clan.  
Heck, she felt totally out of place with these men anyway, discussing _men topics_.  
She huffed and finished the last of her wine with a huge gulp. She grabbed the wine bottle to fill her glass again, but finding it empty, she took it as a great opportunity to get up and leave the table without making it obvious that she wanted to leave because she was _simply bored_.

She entered the kitchen and sighing, she began opening a wine bottle. Outside, she could hear the girly giggles of Ginny and her gang and the roaring laughter of Ron at something one of the boys had said. She rolled her eyes.

The doorbell rang, marking the arrival of someone's date … was it Harry's or Seamus'? She couldn't really remember but she was certain that it wasn't Malfoy's. In those three months, Malfoy had never mentioned a significant other. Neither did Hermione. Hermione wasn't looking, wasn't interested – or rather, that's what she told herself.

That was a blatant lie, of course.

Hermione was a woman. A woman with needs, emotionally and physically – cough cough – but she simply couldn't find someone with whom she can totally relate. She stopped dating Ron for obvious reasons, they just didn't get each other – and well, it seemed like wherever she went and whoever she met simply didn't fit well with her.

_Or am I being too fussy?_ Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she took a sip from her freshly filled glass. _I'm not being fussy, right? I just … I just have certain qualities that I look for … that isn't bad, is it?_

A clearing of a throat broke her train of thought.

Her head snapped towards the direction of the sound, and her eyes landed on Malfoy, who was leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

"Oh, Malfoy," she said.  
"Was I interrupting something?" He asked, smirking.  
"Something? No, nothing at all, why would you say that?"  
"Because when I came in, it looked as if you were concentrating really hard on something … trying to discern the quality of the wine, perhaps?"  
"No, no," she smiled, "The wine is good, do you want some?"  
"I do, but I only came here to get another glass for the new guest."  
"Oh, right!" she snapped into action and began looking for the wine glass, "Your date?"  
"Heavens, no, Granger," he grinned, "Why, would it bother you if it was?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.  
"Contrary to popular belief, you're not that special, Malfoy," she grinned back at him.  
"Ah, you wound me, Granger," he shook his head, "And here I thought we would get along well."  
"We do get along well … observe," Hermione gestured between herself and him; "We're talking, instead of insulting. Though I'm not sure if I should be worried about that or not."  
"Would you prefer it if we were back at each other's throats?"

Hermione immediately had a mental image that was totally uncalled for. Which was Malfoy licking and kissing and biting at her throat.

She frowned and shook her head.

"Well, I believe that if we both were insulting each other all the time, Malfoy, I would at least have a really good time doing it … you know, thinking of really clever and meaningful insults and the like," she answered honestly.  
Malfoy nodded, "I agree. You seemed bored by everyone else here, save for me, yes?"  
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Same old Malfoy, always thinking the world revolves around you."

"Hey!" Ron's head popped into the kitchen, "Where's the wine glass? Seamus' date is waiting!"  
"Oh, whoops," Hermione said, realizing that she got distracted by Malfoy, "You go ahead; I'll join you guys with the wine glass."

Ron's head immediately disappeared, but Malfoy's was still very much in the kitchen.

"Where are those wine glasses anyway?" She bent down and opened the ground cabinet, "Ah! There you are!"

She kneeled down on the floor and began choosing a nice wine glass – which happened to be situated at the very back of the cabinet. She stretched further until she got her hand on one.

"Nice panties, Granger."

Hermione reacted to that so fast that she ended up raising her head and knocking it against the top of the cabinet.

"Ow! OW!" she yelped, finally getting her head out from the cabinet and rubbing her now sore head.  
Malfoy laughed.

She got up and turned to Malfoy, wine glass in hand.

"Excuse me, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, "What did you say?"  
"I said, nice panties," he began to take steps towards her, and when he was finally face to face with her, he muttered, "Granger."

Hermione was about to respond, but before she could, Malfoy tore the wine glass away from her and left the kitchen, sending her a sly smile.

A smile that clearly said 'Hermione Granger wears granny panties.'

Hermione groaned.


	2. G String

**Chapter Two: G-strings**

Hermione had no idea why she was at the lingerie store during her lunch hour.

She had only asked her assistant, a fresh out of university boy called Peter McCross, about what he thought his favourite piece of women's underwear was.

"Ah, I have got to say … the G-string. It's so … ah, I don't know, you know. It's so barely-there, but it covers enough, you know what I mean? It's meant to tease, and trust me, it really does," he had answered.

Apparently that had been reason enough for her to grab a quick sandwich and stuff it in her mouth before dashing off to the nearest lingerie store to get some G-strings.

She had no idea what drove her. It certainly wasn't the conversation the boys had the other day. She suspected it had something to do with Draco Malfoy. She sauntered over to the G-string section, where lie tiny pieces of undergarments.

Hermione grabbed a random one and studied it with a slight grimace and a face of confusion.

"Who the hell wears this?" she whispered. It was like underwear for little girls, honestly! It was so tiny! It would barely cover, well, _anything_!

She shrugged it off and began looking for a piece that caught her attention. A nice, black one did it. She immediately looked for her size, paid for it and rushed back to the office – during which she bumped into none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Hullo there, Granger."  
"Hello, Malfoy," she nodded, "How do you do?"  
"No need to be so formal now. What have you been up to?"  
"Oh, nothing much, I just," she stopped herself before she raised the lingerie store bag to show him.

It was too late though, Draco Malfoy was not Draco Malfoy if he wasn't perceptive and quick.

"Just got back from the lingerie store," he grinned, "I see."  
Hermione kept quiet and looked away, feeling colour rising in her cheeks.

"Don't tell me you took what I said the other day to heart, Granger," he said.  
"Oh no, no … I just felt like I should, you know, try out something new."  
"Ah," he looked at her, tongue-in-cheek, "Fancy that."

"Don't mock me, Malfoy," her eyes narrowed.  
"I'm not," he said bluntly. "Tell you what, Granger … to make up for my supposedly offensive joke, let me take you out to dinner."  
"Y-you, you want to take me out to dinner?" Hermione repeated, unsure of what she had just heard.  
"Yes, Granger. How does Saturday night sound, that's three days away from now."  
"I, uh, I … but why?"  
"I simply wanted to take you and your panties out for dinner," he grinned.

Hermione didn't really know how to take that sentence.

"Well, I … I don't know, Malfoy," she shrugged.

Just then, he took a few steps towards her – and stopped when he was close enough to drown her in his exquisitely delicious scent of cologne. He leaned towards her ear and whispered.

"Far be it from me to deny the attraction we've both had towards each other since our days in Hogwarts, Granger, and I say we give it a go," he continued, "I'm not going to deny this, are you?"

He pulled back to look into her wide eyes, and brushed a curl off her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.

"Well?" he looked at her expectantly.

It was true, though. She had harboured a crush on Malfoy for the longest time, far longer than she had it for Ron – though she had only admitted it after she had graduated from Hogwarts, totally sure that she wouldn't be crossing paths with Malfoy again.

And how wrong she was.

She watched as her best friends re-introduced her to Malfoy as their Auror colleague – and as mentioned earlier, she didn't know whether to be pleasantly surprised or worried:

Pleasantly surprised because they were all getting on so well.  
Worried, because her crush came back with a vengeance that refuses to quit.

And now, she was shocked that Malfoy felt the same way about her.  
The same inexplicable urge to jump him whenever he was in the same room, and the urge to snog the living daylights out him whenever he spoke to her, to drag her fingers through his messy blond locks, and to just … to just … _just, ungh!_

Malfoy smiled at her and stroked her cheek.  
"I'll pick you up at seven," he said finally and left.

Hermione was still speechless, still dumb-struck.

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_Buying a G-string was the biggest mistake I had ever made in quite a while! _Hermione's mind screamed as she tried to adjust her underwear through her skirt for the billionth time that day.

G-strings were … annoying, in her opinion. While some people really truly loved it, with all due respect, she thought she wasn't a G-string girl after all. First off, she had never felt so naked even after putting on a G-string. It was a strange feeling. It felt as if you have no underwear on, but … at the same time, you do – those goddamned strings that pass off as material keep reminding you …

Especially if it keeps getting stuck in between your butt cheeks.

"AGH!" Hermione roared in her office, trying to get the string to not get in between her cheeks.

She opened her office door violently, causing Peter to jump in surprise.

"M-miss Granger, everything alright?" He asked, aware of how irritated, red and tired Hermione looked.

"Peter," she began, "Besides G-strings, what's next on the list?"


	3. Cheeky Thong

**Chapter Three: Cheeky Thong**

"They don't look so bad," Hermione raised her eyebrows as she passed the section of the cheeky thongs section.

They look … wearable.  
They look sexy, feminine, cheeky (as the name implies) and mysterious, in a way – everything that Hermione unfortunately wasn't.

She sighed and decided to go with it, choosing a colour that she liked. Black, of course, nothing could go wrong with black.

She purchased it and went back to the office, wondering how the cheeky thong would be like.

"Hello again, Granger," the all-too-familiar voice of Malfoy reached her ears.

Her heart sped up.

"Ah, Malfoy," she smiled, "Must I always bump into you? Or are you following me?"  
"Granger, if I was following you, I'd tell you what kind of panties to get," he laughed.

Her eyes widened.

"So you _were _following me," she said.  
"No, no, no. I just thought that you wouldn't only stop at one kind of underwear. You'd have to try at least a couple before making your decision, yes? Though, I really think that sticking to what you know is greatest and most comfortable is the best way to go," he grinned – the '_like your granny panties' _went unsaid but Hermione knew he had meant that.  
"Oh well, I've got nothing to lose," she shrugged, wondering why on earth she was having an underwear discussion with Malfoy of all people, when just the other day she didn't want to be a part of it when her boys were talking about it.

How strange indeed.

"Hmmm," Malfoy hummed, all the while grinning.  
"What's with the smile, Malfoy? Why don't you tell me, what is your ultimate women's underwear?"  
"Hmmm," he looked thoughtfully at her for a moment, "I can't tell you that yet. But for now, the friends I have always preferred French knickers. Classy, feminine and demure, they seemed to say."  
"I see," Hermione made a mental reminder to get those tomorrow, just in time for her date with Malfoy on Saturday.

At the very thought, her heart leapt madly again. Damn.

"But what is  
"I see," Hermione made a mental reminder to get those tomorrow, just in time for her date with Malfoy on Saturday.

At the very thought, her heart leapt madly again. Damn.

"But what is _your_ favourite underwear type, Malfoy?" she pressed again.  
"Enjoy the rest of your day, Granger," he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss on it before leaving.

"Huh," she shook her head.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Cheeky thongs – they really weren't so bad.

After putting it on and looking at herself before work in the morning with only her cheeky thongs on, she finally realized why they were called 'cheeky'.

It exposes the bottom part of the bum.

"Hah," she laughed to herself. For a smart woman like herself, there are things that just seem to fly over her head sometimes.

"Cheeky thongs," she grinned and shook her head, before putting on her work skirt.

It was honestly, very un-Hermione, but oh well – nobody knew and saw what she wore underneath, right?


	4. French Knickers

**Chapter Four: French Knickers**

Today was her date with Draco Malfoy.

Only over an hour left before the walking fantasy would appear on her doorstep, looking dashing and mouth-watering as usual.

Today was also … french knickers day.

She quite liked this one. It was black, of course, and comfortable. And lacy.  
Hermione was alright with laces, though sometimes they would irritate her skin.

"Not today, you watch out!" she pointed warningly at her underwear through the full-length mirror.

She slipped on her best dress (which was nothing compared to the likes of Ginny, Parvati and Lavender's best dress), but she had to be true to herself – despite her choice of underwear at the moment. She hoped it would be good enough for Draco Malfoy.

_It doesn't matter, it's all going to come off anyway_, her traitorous mind supplied.

"Oh, shush!" she hissed, remembering who said that very phrase.

She applied light makeup, and put on her best heels (which, again, was nothing compared to the likes of Ginny, Parvati and Lavender).

After walking around and fussing over her hair and everything else that she had on, she was finally ready.

And just in time for Draco Malfoy to knock on her door.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

She couldn't stop staring at him.

He, clearly, was carved by God's loving hand himself. He was … statuesque. To say that Draco Malfoy was handsome was an understatement. He was bloody sex on legs. And he knew that, which made him altogether sexier, if possible.

"So, Granger," Malfoy said in the middle of dinner, "Care to tell me what your choice of underwear is today?"

Malfoy grinned up at her from his plate before gracefully bringing his spoon to his mouth – and Hermione wanted to be whatever it is that was in his spoon so badly.

She mentally kicked herself and sent Malfoy an innocent smile.  
"Why do you want to know so badly, Malfoy?"  
"I'm simply curious," he said, "Won't you tell me?"  
"No," Hermione replied sweetly.

_I would show you if things go well tonight_, her again double-crossing mind provided un-very-helpfully.

_Goddammit, _she shot back at her own mind.

She tried to distract herself from very inappropriate thoughts about the man sitting directly opposite her.

They engaged in very intelligent conversations – something that Hermione really liked about Malfoy. It was so easy to get along well with Malfoy despite their differences and past history. Wonderment filled her mind as she thought she fit well with Malfoy.

It was as if they were tailor-made for each other.

_Just as how granny panties were tailor-made for me_, Hermione laughed inwardly.

She was having a great time, they had already spent more than three hours dining and talking. And somehow, she never wanted it to end.

While laughing at something Malfoy had said, her hand absently scratched her dress somewhere where her french knickers were. It happened again for a few times before she started to feel a somewhat ticklish, somewhat burning sensation from where she scratched.

Her eyes widened at the realization.

_Not now, laces!_

After she had scratched one part, another part began to itch and burn at the same time.

_Oh no, oh no no no no no. Not good._

"Everything alright, Granger?" Malfoy asked.  
"Yes, yes! Perfect, everything's perfect."

"Great," Malfoy grinned, "Shall we? We are the only ones left here."  
"Oh, are we?" She said, trying her best to resist the scratch the crap out of underwear area.

_No, no, no, no, no, no!_

"Shall we?" Malfoy offered his arm and she took it, every fibre of her being worried.

Everything else after that passed in a blur – she hardly registered what Malfoy was talking about while on the way home and she really did like him.

She wanted to like him more. She wanted to fall in love with him.

But her knickers! Ah, those goddamn knickers!

Before she knew it, she was already right in front of her house.  
And Draco Malfoy looked amazing right in front of her house.

So she kissed him.

The kiss was passionate, hungry and heated – all that pent up emotions uncovering ever since Hogwarts.

It was that kind of kiss that would certainly lead to something else.

So that's why she stopped.

She ignored the ache, the need, the _want _for Draco – so she stopped kissing him.

Malfoy, looking dazed and confused, cleared his throat.  
"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Malfoy. I, ummm …" she looked at him in the eyes, "I really do like you, Malfoy. This has been one of the greatest nights of my life, and I thank you. I do wish to see more of you. And I do wish I could invite you upstairs to have some wine and oh, I dunno, whatever it is we end up doing but … I'm sorry … just, not tonight."

"Is it that time of the month?" Draco asked, looking really puzzled and innocently confused, and that caused Hermione to laugh.  
"No, no, not at all," she shook her head and smiled, stroking his cheek, "But I have to go. Goodnight, Draco. And thank you."

Before she fled upstairs, she planted a lingering kiss on his lips.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Ah, it was heaven to finally take off those knickers.

And as predicted, there were red blotches around her the sides of her hips and she immediately applied some cooling and soothing potion over it.

By midnight, she was alright and fully healed. She looked at the french knickers she had tossed into her laundry basket and sighed dejectedly.

"If only lacy french knickers wouldn't give me rashes, I'd be such a sight for Draco Malfoy."


	5. Nothing

**Chapter Five: Nothing**

It was only a little after midnight, and after her rashes have fully gone away that Hermione decided to settle in her house and get comfortable.

She started off by pulling on her most comfortable granny panties and an oversized shirt.

Not a really sexy sight – in fact, not at all.

She removed her makeup, and released her hair from the style she had put on for her date earlier. She dived into her couch and switched on the telly.

She sighed occasionally, thinking about Draco Malfoy – and what would have happened if she had not put on those french knickers.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Who could it be, at this hour?" she whispered to herself, getting off from the couch and walking to the door.

She opened it to reveal Draco Malfoy, the man she had spent the past few hours thinking about.

"Draco?"  
"Nice panties, Granger," he grinned.

"Draco, what are you doing here?"  
"Granger, what happened earlier?"  
"Well, I … the french knickers I had on gave me rashes so I had to, umm," she trailed off, blushing furiously.

"I thought so, you did have those french knickers on," he laughed, "Did you think that my favourite piece of women's underwear is the french knickers, Granger?"  
"Well, I just, oh I don't know," she slammed the door after she was sure Draco Malfoy was fully inside her house.

She turned away in embarrassment and anger for god-knows-what, and asked, "Wine, Draco?"z

"Actually, no, I'd very much like to skip the wine and go on to whatever happens after the wine," he said.

Hermione remembered her confession earlier and was suddenly in the shade of a telephone box.

Draco walked towards her, looking like a predator about to pounce on its prey. And she didn't mind the least bit.

Despite being embarrassed at being caught a second time wearing granny panties by Draco Malfoy, she couldn't do anything about it but stand there, in all her granny-pantied glory, anticipating.

Draco's arms circled her waist and pressed himself against her.  
"Every man has a favourite piece of women's underwear, Granger. For me with you, it's these granny panties," he fingered the waistband of said granny panties, and leaned in to whisper in her ears, "And in a while, my favourite piece of woman's underwear on you would be … _nothing_, Granger."

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Safe to say, Hermione Granger _and _Draco Malfoy found nothing wrong with granny panties.

**FIN.**

**Reviews please :3**

**Well, that was fun to write. Hope you enjoyed it.**


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